Davina's POV
We watched, frozen solid, as the massive door swung open.
The sound rang out like a bullet, stopping every breath in our lungs.
A figure entered, his mere presence draining whatever hope we had managed to cling to.
My mouth turned to sandpaper.
This couldn't be happening.
This couldn't be real.
But it was.
The thugs who'd hauled us here snapped to attention, bowing their heads like servants.
I'd never seen him face-to-face, but the whispered stories were enough.
Will Jenkin.
The name that turned my blood to ice.
My heart plummeted so hard I wondered if it had stopped beating entirely.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. The warehouse went dead silent the moment his shadow crossed the threshold. His gaze swept over us like we were cockroaches.
Disgusting pests. Dirt smudging his pristine empire.
Nobody dared to twitch.
Nobody even dared to exhale.
When he finally spoke, I swear the air itself turned arctic.
